The Eagles Prophecy

'No.' Albinus nodded forward. 'There's been no signal from the flagship.'

'Forget the flagship. Look over there. Our comrades need us. Right now.'

'We haven't had orders.'

'Fuck the orders! Our ships are being cut to pieces. If we don't act now – right now – we'll lose them all.'

'But-'

'Turn the ship around. That's an order!'

For a moment the two officers stared at each other, and more and more of the marines and sailors turned to watch them, as they became aware of the crisis. At length, Albinus nodded his head.

'All right, Centurion. But I'll want it in writing that you gave the order.'

Cato sneered at the man. 'You can have it in writing, if we survive. Now, do it.'

Albinus turned to the steersman. 'Turn to port, hard over!'

'Aye, sir!' The steersman hauled on the oar shaft, straining every sinew of his brawny arms, and the water churned under the stern of the trireme. Cato found it hard to restrain his impatience as the bows slowly swung away from the Horus and eventually lined up with the sea battle over a mile away. Glancing round at the other triremes, he saw faces turned towards them, and could even read the surprise in those on the nearest ship. Cato drew his sword and thrust it forwards, pointing out over the bows of the Spartan. He cupped his spare hand to his mouth and bellowed across the water.

'Follow us! For pity's sake, follow us!'

At first there was no response, then the trierarch called out orders to his men and Cato's heart lifted as he saw the bows of the trireme start to turn after the Spartan. Two more of the large warships altered course, steering towards the other flank, but the remainder held their course in the wake of the flagship.

'Better than nothing,' Cato muttered wryly. Then he turned to Albinus.'Steer right at the middle of that lot. Pick out any target that looks promising.'

'Where are you going?'

'We have to lighten the ship.'

Albinus nodded. 'All right. But do it quickly!'

Cato ran back down the deck and sought out Centurion Minucius. 'Get your men down into the hold. I want anything that's portable brought up on deck and dumped over the side.'

'Dump it?' Minucius raised his eyebrows.'But we'll need that later.'

'There's not going to be any later if we don't dump it.'

Minucius shook his head. 'You don't have the authority.'

Cato stared at him, eyes wide and glaring.'Yes I do. Now carry out your orders or I'll have you taken below and hand your command over to your optio. I mean it.'

Minucius saluted and immediately started to give the necessary orders as Cato headed towards his men, seeking out Felix.

'Optio!'

'Yes, sir!'

'Take a section. Go below and bring up the slingshot stores.'

'Yes, sir. How much do you want?'

'All of it. Get moving.'

The optio had served long enough to know not to question orders, however unexpected they might be. He turned to the nearest men. 'Drop your shields and javelins and follow me.'

Felix drew back the cover of the forehatch and dropped down below the deck, quickly followed by the others. A short time later they were handing up small sacks filled with lead shot to the men on the deck. Felix's head popped up through the hatch. 'Slings as well, sir?'

'What?… Yes, why not? Might as well put them to some use while we lighten the load.'

As the marines began to stack the sacks in the centre of the deck Cato looked aft and saw that Minucius and his men were already heaving sacks of grain and spare sheets of plate armour over the side. A quick glance at the trireme following a short distance behind revealed that they too had realised the need to lighten their ship. Cato nodded his satisfaction and then pushed his way to the thick timber post at the Spartan's bow. Below him, the bronze mass of the trireme's ram lifted and plunged into the sea, aiming at the heart of the sea battle being fought out barely a third of a mile ahead.

Cato scanned the vessels still fighting it out amidst the flotsam, wreckage and bodies littering the surface of the sea. The Trident, which had passed through the enemy, had turned about and charged back into the fight, ramming into the stern of a pirate ship that had already wedged its ram into the side of a bireme. The crews of all three vessels were locked in combat on the deck of the pirate ship and, as far as Cato could make out, the Romans had the upper hand.

The sound of forlorn cries reached his ears and Cato noticed that there were men in the water directly ahead of the Spartan, Romans as well as pirates. He was on the verge of crying out a warning to Albinus, before he realised that there was nothing that could be done for these men. The trireme was too unwieldy to set a course to avoid the men in the water. As the warship surged into the fringe of the battle, Cato glimpsed the desperate expressions of the men in their path, and saw them frantically swim out of the trireme's path. Those who were too badly injured to swim fast enough, or who simply clung to debris, could only watch in despair as the bronze ram bore down on them. A handful of men grasping a shattered length of mast were swept from sight as the bow crashed into them with a dull thud, then there were screams as the survivors of the impact swept along the sides of the warship and were crushed by the blades of the oars churning through the sea.

Cato tried to ignore their cries and glanced round. He looked back at the Trident and froze. A short distance beyond Macro's ship Cato saw the front of a pirate ship powering forward under its oars. As the crew of the Roman vessel became aware of the danger their shouts of alarm carried clearly across the water. The marines were still fighting aboard the enemy they had managed to pin with their crow. But now they hesistated and looked back over the deck of their own ship. With a triumphant roar, the pirates they were fighting surged back at them.

'Over there!' Cato shouted over his shoulder as he pointed towards Macro's ship and thrust out his arm. 'Steer over there!'

Albinus relayed the order to the steersman and the Spartan, a little more nimble now that she had shed some weight, slewed round towards the three ships still locked together, and the fourth rushing in to finish off the Trident and her crew.

'Ready your slings!' Cato shouted to his men and pointed out the target. 'Aim for that bastard on the far side! You men, give the slingers some space!'

Only two hundred paces separated the Spartan from the ships locked together when the pirate vessel slammed into the side of Macro's ship. The grinding, splintering crash filled the air as the Trident recoiled under the impact, the shock tearing the rigging apart. The mast splintered and crashed down on to the deck moments later. The collision knocked every man off his feet in the three ships that had been locked together, and there was an instant of silence before they recovered, scrambled back to their feet and continued fighting. The pirates aboard the ship that had rammed the Trident launched their grappling hooks over on to the Roman deck and began to haul the vessels closer together as a boarding party crowded the foredeck, brandishing their weapons as they waited impatiently for the moment to spring on board the bireme and wipe out her crew and marines.

Cato turned away and filled his lungs. He stared down through the grating on the trireme's deck to the dim faces of the oarsmen below. 'Come on! Faster, you worthless bastards! Faster!'

The pausarius increased the rhythm and with the oarsmen straining every sinew of their muscles the Spartan leaped forward, closing down on the tangle of ships ahead. Suddenly Cato was aware that the bows were swinging away from the ships and he felt a surge of cold fury as he turned towards Albinus and began to raise his fist. Then he realised the trierarch's intention was to pass round the stern of the Trident and take the pirate ship in the side.

They were well within slingshot range now and Cato bellowed an order to his men.'Slingers! Loose! Let 'em have it, lads!'